


got my head spinning.

by redhoods



Series: fictober 2019. [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 18:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20878670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Lorenz swallows thickly and it takes him a minute to remember why Claude’s not supposed to be in here, “Claude,” he hisses and ducks behind the dressing screen, pressing up on his toes to peer over the top of it, “What are you doing?” Now that he’s not... distracted, he can see that Claude’s hiding something behind his back and alarm bells ring in his head.If Claude is up to something... so help him.





	got my head spinning.

**Author's Note:**

> fictober day 3..................... superstitions.
> 
> back to proper capitalization for now i guess?

“Oh,” a familiar voice says behind him and Lorenz whips around, hands coming up like he’s going to be able to hide any significant amount of what he’s wearing, “_wow_.”

Claude is on the opposite side of the room, somehow managed to sneak all the way to the cart with tea on it that’d been left for him. He’s only even partially dressed now, white trousers that are snug at his waist and thighs and fall loose to his bare feet. The undershirt seems to be translucent and he might as well not even be wearing it, considering it’s open almost down to the waist of his trousers, baring a lot of dark skin and a lot of dark chest hair.

Lorenz swallows thickly and it takes him a minute to remember why Claude’s not supposed to be in here, “Claude,” he hisses and ducks behind the dressing screen, pressing up on his toes to peer over the top of it, “What are you doing?” Now that he’s not... distracted, he can see that Claude’s hiding something behind his back and alarm bells ring in his head.

If Claude is up to something... so help him.

Claude blinks a few times, seems to realize he’s moved and drags his eyes slowly over, his cheeks darkening, “Ah, oh,” he frowns, “Why are you hiding?”

Goddess help them all, this man is a king.

“You are not supposed to be in here,” Lorenz enunciates slowly, like he’s talking to a child or Sylvain or Caspar or...

Claude is still frowning at him, eyebrows pinched a little and when he takes a step closer, Lorenz doesn’t ‘eep’, it’s not becoming, but it’s close. However, he does duck down behind the screen out of sight. “Why not?” His footsteps come closer, bare feet smacking off the floor in a way that means he’s making sure to be heard.

Lorenz has been on the wrong end of his sneaking too many times to think otherwise.

Gripping the top of the dressing screen, he peeks over the top again, “It’s bad luck, Claude,” he doesn’t snap, but it’s only because Claude is right there on the other side, making like he’s going to peer around the side of it. “Stop that, you incorrigible man!”

Claude lifts his one hand, the other still hidden behind his back, and shuffles back mere inches, “Are you saying that it’s bad luck to look at you?”

“Are you—” Lorenz sighs and lowers back down to put his feet flat on the floor, careful though because his stockings have been threatening to cause him to slip since he put them on, “You’ve never heard that? It is a... superstition of sorts,” and as he says it, it sounds a little ridiculous. 

A lot ridiculous.

“Tell me?”

Lorenz resists the urge to fidget with his hair, to twist any of it around his fingers like he usually would, instead shifts to peer at Claude around the side of the screen. Claude is looking up at the top again and Lorenz greedily drinks him in again before clearing his throat, “They say it’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.”

Claude’s face goes all soft and fond, his smile easy, though he turns to keep his secret behind his back, “Bad luck for the wedding?” He seems to be actually curious about this.

“The marriage actually,” Lorenz corrects, curling his fingers into his palms so he doesn’t reach out, even if Claude looks very soft and inviting and there’s a curl dipping down over his forehead that he desperately wants to smooth back.

“Oh,” Claude replies and takes a step forward, before he seems to think about it and hesitates again, “I didn’t take you for the superstitious sort, darling.”

Lorenz clears his throat, “I’m not usually.”

“What’s going on then?”

Taking a breath, he edges out from around the screen, back fully into Claude’s line of sight, “I’m not finished getting ready,” he admits quietly, “I didn’t want you to see me until I was done.” It’s easier to admit these sorts of things to Claude now, after all this time, but he still has to push himself to do it sometimes. Claude never presses though, always seems content to wait him out.

“Lorenz,” Claude says it like he says ‘darling’, so soft and fond, and Lorenz _aches_.

Feeling brave, he closes the distance, toe to toe with Claude, and reaches up, brushing that one curl to the side, even though he knows it’ll be back where it started in no time at all, “Claude.”

Claude smiles at him and it’s the sun breaking through the clouds after a long storm, “You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, his palm broad and warm through layers of clothes when it lands on his side, “You could go out there in nothing but my nightshirt and I’d think you were the most ravishing being I’d ever seen in my life.”

Lorenz doesn’t splutter at him and its been years of learning how to deal with these statements from Claude that keep it from happening, “I would _never_,” he says instead, lightly smacking Claude on the chest, then rests his hand in the open v of Claude’s shirt, against warm bare skin.

“A man can dream,” Claude replies, eyes crinkling when he grins.

“What are you hiding back there?” He asks, when his curiosity can no longer take it.

Claude blinks at him once before his mouth opens in a little ‘o’, “Right, I’d somehow forgotten,” he says, “too distracted,” he adds, with a pointed sweep down of his eyes that makes Lorenz color brightly. “Ah, love that blush,” he grins and pulls his hand out, producing a small bouquet of bright red roses.

“Oh,” Lorenz says quietly, reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers over the petals.

He watches feeling very out of body as Claude withdraws one of the stems from the bunch and snaps it with his fingers, “Here,” Claude says, very quiet, tucking the bloom behind Lorenz’s ear, opposite the side where all of his hair is gathered.

Unsure of how he’s going to take much more today and the ceremony hasn’t even started, Lorenz laughs, a soft, overwhelmed thing and takes the bouquet so it’s not crushed between them as he wraps his arms around Claude’s back. Claude hums and curls arms around him and Lorenz can’t even find it in himself to fuss when Claude lifts him up off the floor in a tight hug, especially when Claude is careful to set him back on his feet right after.

He smudges a kiss to Claude’s cheek as he pulls away, drawing the bouquet to his chest. “Here,” he says and draws one out himself, though he doesn’t have Claude’s ability to snap a stem in his fingers, “I’ll trust you can find somewhere appropriate to place this,” he says, sniffing delicately, trying for imperious even though he’s actually trying to keep himself from letting his emotions spill out.

Claude doesn’t call him on it though, simply takes the rose, twirls it like he would an arrow, “I’m sure I can.” He reaches out with his free hand and Lorenz tilts his face into the hand that cups his cheek, presses a kiss to the center of Claude’s palm.

“Beautiful,” Claude breathes out.

“You already said that,” Lorenz muffles into his palm, lets himself be drawn into a soft kiss.

Someone knocks on the door and Claude jerks back with a guilty flush on his cheeks before he seems to realize it, “Oh for—I’m the king and it’s my wedding day, if I want to kiss you, I damn well can,” he says, then ducks back in, waits til their lips are just a breath apart, “Our wedding day,” he corrects, then kisses him again.

“Claude, I know you’re in there!”

“Go away, Hilda!” Lorenz shouts for him, breathing out a sigh when Claude’s lips slide to his jaw.

She bangs louder on the door.

Claude sighs heavily, touching his forehead to his shoulder, “I suppose I should finish getting ready,” he very nearly whines.

Lorenz laughs softly, cups his jaw in his empty hand, tilts his face up to kiss him feather light and quick, “I’ll see you at the wedding, handsome,” he says there, so their lips brush, enjoying the way that Claude’s usually bright green eyes darken. He releases him and backs away with a grin.

“And you call me incorrigible,” Claude grumbles at him, sweeps his eyes over him once more, head to toe, then turns away, “I’m coming, Hilda! Cut it out before you break the door!”

“Now, that’s a view!” Lorenz calls to his back, listens to Hilda’s raucous laughter in response.

The door clicks shut, but it does nothing to cover Hilda’s continued laughter and the dull sound of Claude saying something to her. He exhales into the quiet of the room and turns to find somewhere to put the rest of the roses before he finishes getting ready.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @vowofenmity on twitter


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